The Green Mile
by rhapsodybree
Summary: "I guess sometimes the past just catches up with you, whether you want it to or not." : Allie finds her own past catching up with her. She wasn't the only one. Allie, Nick, Mia and a few new characters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **Welcome to my next City Homicide story, a sequel to 'Mia' and 'Promises'. In order to fully appreciate this one, I suggest you read those stories first.

Enjoy.

* * *

Allie wrapped her hands around her warm mug of coffee as she looked down at the large piece of paper her daughter had out before her on the kitchen table. On the paper was a family tree that Mia had laboured over in after school care for the past week. She made sure to dedicate her full attention to her daughter as she began to explain it all.

"Grandad and Grandma are first," the five year old explained, pointing to a box that proudly declared 'Paul and Linda Buchanan'. "Then there's a line to Daddy, and then there's you and then there's me." Mia nonchalantly drew invisible lines in the white space next to her name on the chart. "And then there's all my baby brothers and sisters that I'm going to have."

Allie rolled her eyes. She saw Mia spoiling for a fight, the frequent – and very much one-sided – discussion about when a much longer for sibling might be coming. Taking a sip of her coffee to hide a snort, she eyed the ever so innocent gaze of the child that turned her face up to her. Her daughter was not as innocent as she made out to be. "Mm," Allie decided to answer neutrally. "Moving on."

Mia's face drooped before she turned back, pointing at another line running under her adoptive grandparents. "There's Uncle Andy, Aunty Lisa and Candy, Con and Cass." The box with Candice – Mia's favourite person in Nick's extended family – was coloured in brightly, standing out boldly next to her brother and sister. Allie noted the distinction with a smile then quickly followed Mia's rapid speech as she moved onto the next line, the last of Nick's brothers. "There's Uncle Rick, Uncle Chas and Emery."

Allie actually laughed out loud when Mia spoke the last name. "Emery's not a cousin sweetheart, she's a dog."

Mia turned her stubborn face – much like her mother's – to Allie. "But Daddy said that Emery is Uncle Rick and Uncle Chas' kid cos they can't have any kids."

_What was she supposed to say to that? _"Fair enough," she agreed vaguely.

Mia wasn't finished though. "Why can't they have kids?" she posed thoughtfully.

Allie opened her mouth and then shut it again. She was going to need to speak to Nick about that one. She'd been hoping to put off that conversation for a few years yet. "Some people can and some people can't," she fudged, hoping the answer would be enough.

"But you still can right?" replied Mia craftily.

Allie sighed inwardly. "Yes Mia."

Mia nodded her head in satisfaction and turned to another section of the page. "Plus there's Uncle Matt, Aunty Emma and 0.62."

"0.62?" asked Allie in confusion.

"Yep," said Mia cheerfully. "That's what Aunty Em called it when we went shopping. The closer and closer until the baby comes, it will get older and older and then it will be born and then it will be 0 again."

The little girl nodded her head as she finished her explanation before her brow creased. "Hang on, that doesn't make sense. Wouldn't the baby be one by then?"

"How about you ask your Aunty Em next time you see her?" replied Allie, handballing the questions off to her friend with a little guilt.

"Okay." Mia's attention was back on the chart. "And then there's Uncle Duncan and Uncle Simon too."

"Uncle Simon?" asked Allie warily.

"Uncle Simon," said Mia, nodding her head in a determined manner, tongue poking out as she carefully fixed up the line running from the long gone cop to the head of this family tree labelled 'Mummy and Daddy's work'.

Complete, Mia lifted up the piece of paper with a wide grin on her face as she surveyed her work. "Looking good sweetie," complimented Allie as she rose from her chair, empty coffee mug in hand. As she stood at the kitchen sink rinsing the mug, her daughter kneeled on her chair and peered over the back. "Daddy has a lot of people on his side of the family," the five – almost six – year old said curiously. "Why don't I have any aunties and uncles on your side? Don't you have any brothers and sisters?"

Allie suddenly felt tired as she placed the mug on drying rack. _Who would have thought that an after school activity would be a minefield? _

She was exhausted by the time that Mia declared she was done and dashed from the table. Gathering up her last bit of energy, Allie ordered her daughter back to clean up her pencils and put her homework in her homework folder where it was supposed to go.

"But why?" came the whine. "Hi-5 is on!"

"And it won't be for much longer if you don't get your butt back here," called Allie.

There was a pause before her little hurricane came flying back into the room, picked up everything with a sweeping motion and raced for her bag in the hall before disappearing into the lounge room.

Having a sinking feeling that the pencils were now swimming at the bottom of her daughter's school bag and the carefully crafted family tree was now crushed, Allie stepped into the hall. She looked into the blue backpack as the Hi-5 theme music wafted down hall. _Sure enough, Messiness 101. _"Mia Kingston, get your butt back here and put it in your bag properly."

"It's Mia Buchanan now Mum!" called the five year old and Allie wondered the smartarse-ness had come from. _Probably spending too much time with Nick_, she reasoned.

Her daughter's declaration triggered a sudden flashback, and standing in the hall, Allie remembered New Year's Eve ten months earlier.

_Just hours after Nick had proposed to her – and with Mia and Candy camping in Mia's room – they were in her bedroom. Nick's head resting on her chest, she ran her fingers though his dark hair, each move drawing attention to the foreign engagement ring on finger. _

_She interrupted the comfortable silence when she suddenly laughed. Nick tilted his head with a question in his eyes. "Did you know that the first time I explained Bacchus and what a Daddy was to her, Mia assumed you were her Daddy."_

_A slow smile spread across Nick's face. "Really?" he said warmly. "How about we make it official?" _

_The shock hit her left, right and centre. Nick shifted and braced himself over her, looking her in the eye. "What?" he shrugged. "I want to adopt Mia."_

"_Why on earth would you want to do that?" She'd known Nick a long time and Mia had known him for as long as she had lived, but it still amazed her that he wanted to do this. She still didn't trust herself to believe that this was real. "You don't have to do this you know?" _

_He'd smothered her objections with a kiss. "I'm marrying you and she's part of the package. I want to." Several kisses later, he teased her when he spoke again. "Too much for one night?"_

_Rolling her eyes, Allie pushed at the cocky man's chest. He fell backward on the bed and she'd smugly straddled his chest. "I'm not going to be your typical woman, barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen you know?" _

_She felt his laugh rumble in his chest. "Oh trust me, I know." His hands rested comfortably on her thighs as he looked up at her. "But how about that three course meal?" _

"_Keep dreamin'," snorted Allie as she lowered her lips to his. _

"_Oh I will…" _

Shaking herself from the memory with a smile on her face, she found herself looking at her ring on the hand clasping Mia's bag. "You've got 'til the count of three missy. One… Two… Thr…"

Typically, her daughter dashed back out, signing the latest Hi-5 song at the top of her voice, at the last possible moment. She placed her pencils in her case and shoved the paper into her homework folder with as much care as she could – which wasn't much. "Love you Mummy!" she cried, giving Allie's legs a quick hug before she raced back to the television.

_What could she say to that?_

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Allie receives shocking news. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Allie grunted in annoyance as she looked down at the form in front of her. Sparing a glance to the papers all around her on the dining room table, she lamented that she always left this to the last possible minute. Always.

The last date to submit taxes was tomorrow, and she would be damned if she wasn't going to finish it by then. Her mother was an accountant, but along with her mother's lessons growing up about the finer points of completing one's taxes oneself – something that she had_ not _taken to like a duck to water, but unavoidably persevered with – she'd inherited her father's gene for leaving everything to the last minute.

And so here she sat on All Hallows Eve muttering away as Nick got ready to take Mia to a friend's Halloween-themed birthday party. Speaking of the devil, her husband entered the kitchen. When he made his way over to her and leaned down to press a kiss to her temple, she pulled away crossly and waved him off. "Go away. I'm busy."

She managed to be slightly more civilised when her daughter skipped into the kitchen wearing her Tinkerbell costume. Standing up long enough to snap a few pictures, Allie hugged Mia before she sprinted out of the kitchen. Pressing her lips to Nick's briefly, her mind was already back on the dastardly taxes.

She hadn't seen her mother – or her father for that matter – in seven years, but that didn't mean that they weren't with her, peering over her shoulder, especially at tax time. "Damn you Mother," she muttered to herself as she took her seat once again and prepared to buckle down.

* * *

Three hours later, Allie signed her name and threw down her pen with a feeling of great satisfaction. Stretching her arms over her head, her tight muscles screaming at the treatment, she realised it was dark.

Gathering up the neat papers and sliding them into a large envelope, she slapped the package down on the kitchen bench as a reminder to send it off tomorrow. Looking at her watch, she realised that Nick and Mia would be home soon, her husband having wisely holed up at Matt's place to watch a footy game during the interim of their daughter's party.

Deciding there would be just enough time to have a shower before they got home, Allie headed for the bedroom. She'd pulled off her jumper and was tugging down the zip of her jeans when the phone suddenly rang. Momentarily debating letting the answering machine pick it up, she sighed and zipped her pants up once again. Leaving her bedroom, she picked up the handset in the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Is this Allie Kingston?" asked an uncertain voice.

"Yes this is," confirmed Allie warily, wondering where she knew that voice from.

"Oh good," came the relieved reply. "I wasn't sure if I'd looked up the right number."

It hit her. "Shana?" Allie asked in a surprised tone. _Why would her cousin be calling her now? _

"Hey cuz," came the reply that should have sounded happy but fell rather flat. "I need you to sit down, because I'm going to tell you something..."

* * *

When Nick unlocked the front door and stepped into the hall, he sincerely hoped that Allie had finished her taxes. She'd been irritable and tired all week, and when he'd made the suggestion that she just take it all to the accountant like he did, she'd exploded.

He'd refrained from suggesting it again.

As the six year old dashed by him to her bedroom – looking decidedly less fairy-like than when they had left earlier – Nick shut the door behind him. "Al?" he called as he noticed that none of the lights were on.

Wondering if he'd find her asleep on the table, he turned left into the kitchen. He did find her seated at the table, but she wasn't sleeping. Instead, she seemed to be frozen to the spot. Moving toward her quickly in concern, he saw that she in shock. Kneeling before his wife, he removed the phone she held in a death grip and reached up a hand to her cheek, trying to draw her back to earth. "Al?" he said softly. "Allie? What's wrong?"

"He's dead," was the emotionless response.

Nick was confused. "Who's dead Al?"

Recognition began to return to her eyes as she turned her face to his. "My dad," she whispered and he could hear the pain. "The grandfather that I never let Mia meet is dead." Her disbelieving laugh was brittle as Nick rose and tugged her into his arms. "Her Grandad is dead," she whimpered into his chest.

"Grandad died?" exclaimed a voice from the doorway. Mia was distressed as she ran into the kitchen and looked up at Nick. "Your Dad died?"

"No sweetheart, my Grandad didn't die," explained Nick as he took a seat on a chair, Allie now in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder. She still hadn't cried yet. "Your Mummy's father died."

"Mummy has a Grandad too?" asked Mia in confusion as she moved closer to her parents, resting one hand on Nick's shoulder, the other on Allie's knee. "Why haven't I met him?"

Feeling her heart clench at the innocent question, Allie sat up and drew her daughter close to her. "Mummy hasn't spoken to her Daddy in a very long time sweetheart," she explained softly.

Mia patted her mother's cheek sombrely. "It's okay Mummy. You don't need to cry, we can get you another Grandad," suggested Mia. "Just like Stella now has Baggy."

Stella's puppy Frodo had escaped the yard and been hit by a car three months earlier. Nothing could be done and the dog was put down. It had been Mia's first tender experience with death, but upon discovering that the much loved dog was to be replaced by a Scottish terrier, she had been much heartened. Unfortunately, the same principles could not be applied here.

Sensing Allie floundering, Nick stepped in. "Mummy only has one Grandad," he said carefully. "And he's not coming back."

"Oh," said Mia, her expression thoughtful. "We should go and dig him a hole in the backyard too, like we did for Frodo, so he can be buried nice and safe."

Allie laughed, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes as Nick's hand ran up and down her back. "That's a nice idea squirt, but Grandad will be buried in a special place with other people who have" – she paused a moment to collect herself – "have passed away."

"I've heard about them," agreed Mia. "You bury them in a seminary."

"Cemetery, sweetheart," corrected Allie with a wan smile as she brushed away the tears that were most certainly _not _falling.

They may not have been falling then, but when Nick woke up suddenly in the middle of the night and found his wife smothering her cries into her pillow beside him, he slipped his arms around her and tugged her close to him. "Oh Al."

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

A sudden arrival. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

In the morning sun, a tall woman, her brown hair streaked with grey hairs, her face set in a determined manner, stood with her back erect in front of an unfamiliar door. After the very barest of hesitations, she fisted her hand, raised her arm and firmly knocked.

Inside the house, Nick was walking down the short hall flicking up his shirt collar when he heard the knock. His business shirt unbuttoned over his bare chest, he headed for the door. Wondering who it could be, he sincerely hoped it wasn't something that would require his wife's attention. She was still fragile - though she would deny it until her dying breath - since discovering that her father had died last night.

It was bad enough that he had to go out today. (He'd called in time off instantly, but a date with the prosecutor regarding a case he signed off on that was now heading to court was unfortunately unmissable and unchangeable.)

Opening the front door, he moved his fingers to his shirt buttons as he looked at the person standing before him. "Yes?"

"Who are you?" the woman demanded to know imperiously.

"Nick Buchanan," replied Nick instantly, the tone having demanded an instant reply. "Who are you?"

"Desiree Kingston," sniffed the older woman. "Why pray tell are you at my daughter's house at this hour and in such a state of undress?"

Realising he was facing the woman who had given birth to Allie for the first time, he took a step back into the house and called down the hall. "Allie, it's for you," he said loudly in classic question avoidance. Desiree raised a finger to her ear and delicately blocked the noise.

Allie stepped out of the lounge room with a blanket wrapped around her form, bags forming underneath her eyes. "Who is it?" she asked tiredly. She answered her own question when she saw the form standing in the doorway. Allie stopped in her tracks. "Hello Mother."

"Hello Allegra."

Last button done up on his shirt, Nick looked between the two women, the air crackling between them. He looked at his wife when she turned to face him and spoke in a deadly calm voice. "Nick," she said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face blank. "You are going to be late for your meeting and Mia needs to get to school."

Nick opened his mouth to object, a ready reply on his lips that he would cancel the meeting and stay home but the determined look she gave him made her desire to face this alone clear. Their daughter also chose that moment to come flying down the hallway with her hair still not yet done, a shoe in hand and an unzipped backpack flung over her shoulder. "We're going to be late Daddy!" Mia cried before she realised they had company. Instantly hiding behind the nearer parent, she tugged on her shoe as she peeked her head out from behind her mother's back.

Allie didn't move as her daughter used her as a guard, her gaze now on her own mother once again. Sensing that a showdown was in the works, Nick quickly tucked his shirt into his pants and reached for his keys and wallet from the side table. Stepping up to Allie, he pressed a firm kiss to her lips before reaching behind her for their daughter. "Time to go squirt."

Desiree Kingston shifted from entrance so that she wasn't blocking the way out for the man and little girl, Nick zipping up the backpack as Mia protested, "But what about my hair?"

"I'll do it in the car."

When Nick opened the front door and gestured for her to leave, Mia looked back at the old lady looking at her intently. "Who's she?" she whispered in a loud voice.

"You'll find out later" was the last thing that Desiree Kingston heard before the door shut and she was alone in the house with her daughter. "I'm assuming that was my granddaughter," she said in a tight voice.

Allie nodded stiffly but didn't dare chance words. Her mother reached into her pocket and pulled out a square of well-folded, faded paper. Her throat tightened as Allie instantly recognised the photo: she'd sent it to her parents shortly after she had given birth to Mia in a moment of hormonal longing. "He always kept this in his pocket," came the unsteady voice as Allie saw the first crack in her mother's well-oiled armour.

The tone and look was accusatory when Desiree lifted her gaze to her daughter next. "Would it have killed you to visit?"

* * *

At twenty five past three that afternoon, Nick slipped into the house, Mia in tow. Seeing no wife – or mother-in-law for that matter – he shut the door behind him. Mia sat herself on the floor with her backpack, pulling each thing out as she searched for an elusive bracelet as her father stepped past her.

He found the love of his life standing still near the sink in the kitchen. Her body was taut, her arms braced tightly on the bench as she looked unseeingly out the window.

Allie startled when she felt her husband standing behind her, her back to his chest. He ran his hands down her side before his arms wrapped around her body and she leaned back into his embrace. "How you feeling?" he asked softly.

"Nh nhh," she replied, shaking her head slightly, her tresses brushing against Nick's cheeks. This translated as "I don't want to talk about it".

"You manage to get time off?" said Nick gently next into her ear.

"Mm," nodded Allie. "Three days."

"That's all Priority would give you?" asked Nick confused.

"That's all I asked for," corrected Allie, her eyes still intent on the tree in the front yard.

"You sure about that?" pressed Nick.

Allie nodded her head. "That's all the time I need."

"Mm," responded Nick, pressing his lips to the side of his wife's neck. Allie then tilted her head and looped her arm backward around his neck to draw him to her lips.

They came apart when they heard the indignant cry from the doorway. "Is this the example you are setting for my granddaughter?" demanded Desiree Kingston.

"Yeah Mum," responded Allie with a roll of her eyes, but she didn't step out of Nick's embrace. "No surface of the house is safe." As Desiree shifted uncomfortably with a flash of disgust, Nick raised his eyebrow in Allie's direction as she continued. "We're going at it like rabbits."

"Rabbits?" enquired the newly arrived Mia. "What rabbits?"

Allie turned her full attention to her daughter then. Stepping away from Nick, she opened up her arms. "Hey sweetheart," she said as Mia raced across the kitchen and up into her arms. She rose with the six year old in her arms, giving her a kiss.

"Are you feeling better now?" asked Mia earnestly inspecting her mother's face.

Allie smiled, the first real one for the day. "I'm getting there."

Shifting her daughter to her hip, wondering when she had gotten so big, Allie turned Mia's attention to the other woman standing in the kitchen. "There is someone I want you to meet." Allie took a deep breath before she made the introductions. "Mia, this is my mother."

"Oh," said Mia as she considered it a moment. Her face cleared as she realised what it meant. "Cool, I have another Granny."

"Grandmother dear," admonished Desiree stiffly as Mia scrambled down from her mother's arms and made her way over to her newest relative.

"Hi Granny," said Mia brightly, not caring that she had been corrected. When Desiree made no move, Mia took initiative and stepped forward. Hugging her grandmother's legs, she held the embrace as she looked upward with a querying expression on her face. "Are you an old woman?"

Desiree sputters. "Well if you are," continued Mia gleefully, referencing one of her favourite books, "if you eat a horse, you'd be dead of course!"

Allie watched the scene playing out before her with tears in her eyes. She didn't look away when Nick's hand rested heavily on the nape of her neck, instead speaking softly. "The funeral's on Wednesday. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"We'll be ready."

_

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_

Next chapter:

A funeral. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Allie took a deep breath and looked at the church. She'd sworn that she would never step inside a church ever again. With devoutly religious parents – well, parent now – she had gone to mass every Sunday growing up. But after she'd joined the police force and been raped undercover, she'd found it difficult to believe that there was a God up there that would let all these things happen.

The people walking around her showed no recognition. _They didn't recognise her_, she thought bitterly. _Guess that's the price to be paid for staying away. _

Her mother had wanted her to ride in the car with the extended family, and the family priest, but she'd balked. And so instead, she stood in the carpark in front of the church and tried to build up the confidence to enter the building. She didn't need to look to know that her husband and daughter were standing behind her, shy Mia riding on Nick's hip as they waited. Where before she could take comfort from their presence, there was a gaping hole in her heart today that they just couldn't fill.

She was still standing out the front of the church when the cars carrying her father's coffin and the family pulled up.

She saw her mother step out of the car, clad in black, assisted by her sister. Allie felt a twinge of guilt as she noticed the red-rimmed eyes, the hunched over form and the air of sadness all around. Her heart gave her orders to move to be with her mother, to go through this pain together. But her brain and body wouldn't respond, rooted to the spot.

In the end, it was a combination of two things that moved her to the stained glass doors and into the church: Nick's hand touching her back and her mother's look toward her. The former, she instantly moved away, scared that she would break down, and for the latter she instantly stepped forward in reaction to a look she'd been on the receiving end for years.

Entering the church behind her family, struggling to keep calm, silence fell. Walking down that seemingly endless aisle between the full pews, Allie felt as if every eye in the building was on her. Arriving at the front row, she wordlessly took a seat next to her mother, Nick beside her, Mia sitting sombrely in his lap. She stared stonily ahead, eyes on the coffin, refusing to acknowledge anyone.

She kept it together when the priest rose and began the ceremony. She kept it together when Nick placed his hand on her knee. She kept it together through the readings and the prayers. She kept it together when everyone lined up for communion and she remained seated. She kept it tightly together when her mother stood up at the pulpit, gathered herself together and spoke of her husband. She kept it together right up until the point when Desiree Kingston's voice shook. "The only regret Steve ever had was never meeting his grandchild."

And when her cousin sang her father's favourite song, the strains of _You Are My Sunshine _filling the church, she cried at last.

* * *

If one more person touched her, Allie was going to scream.

Rubbed raw with the emotions flooding through her, she stood in line next to her mother. Faces blurred before her: family, friends and workmates – some she'd known long ago, and others she had never met before – offering their condolences, their pleasure at seeing her once again and any assistance she might require. She'd refused to make her daughter suffer in the line with her and so Nick stood against the wall on the far side of the room, his hands resting on Mia's shoulders, their daughter standing back against his legs as she looked around at all the new people in the room. She knew that was one thing that she wouldn't have to worry about yet: Nick would make sure Mia was okay.

She wasn't though.

Feeling claustrophobic, and the line looking like it would never end, Allie struggled to breathe. Taking a step back, she turned to her mother's sister, her Aunt Sandrine. "Aunty Sandy," she said, her voice sounding weak to her ears. "I need to... to..."

"Go," ordered her aunt, completely understanding. "I'll look after your mother."

Slipping out of one of the large glass doors behind her, Allie took gulping breaths as she gripped the rail and looked unseeingly down to the prettily maintained shrubbery and garden before her. Water cascaded down a small waterfall nearby, no doubt meant to generate a sense of peace and calmness, but standing there she felt anything but.

Allie tried to put her thoughts into order, but the one thing that kept sticking out in her mind was her mother's words. "The only regret Steve had was never meeting his grandchild." In the large scheme of things – her father was dead for God's sake – her deliberately staying out of contact seemed petty. Feeling like she was finally growing up, Allie turned with a determined glint in her eyes when she heard the familiar tread behind her.

* * *

Nick saw that the toughness was back in his wife's eyes the minute he stepped outside, Mia running toward her mother, Allie swinging her up into her arms for a firm hug. Whilst natural given the circumstances, dealing with the melancholy and standoffish Allie the past few days had had him wishing her usual prickly self back. Looking at the form of the determined woman before him, Nick sensed she had something to tell him.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Dad's gone and there is nothing that I can do about," came the clear voice of Allie, not one tremble present. "But the least I can do is offer Mum the chance he never got." She sucked in a deep breath. Nick felt her gaze look past him and turned as their group expanded by one.

Desiree Kingston stepped out into the small courtyard and eyed where her daughter stood holding her granddaughter. There was silence for a moment before it was Allie who spoke. "Come stay with us for a while."

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Little Athletics. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

The sun was setting when Allie unlocked the front door.

Since they'd returned from Sydney, work had been full on. Nick had pulled a case with a serial killer who had suddenly gone on a killing spree and she too had had her hands full. Part of her was thrilled at being kept at work as this meant she didn't need to face her mother just yet, but on the downside, she hadn't seen much of Mia this week either.

At least they'd had each other.

She'd first balked at the idea of her mother taking her daughter to school and then picking her up after, but the way this week had gone, she would have been calling in favours left, right and centre to get someone to watch Mia when after school care closed at 6. Plus it didn't look like it her mother's influence hadn't been too bad. _Yet, _her traitorous mind added.

She was in a good mood, the weekend stretching out before her.

Shutting the door behind her, she headed for the kitchen where she could hear voices. Stopping in the doorway, she took an undisguised moment to look at the scene before her. Mia sat, still in her school uniform, chatting merrily away at the dining table as she coloured in a book. Desiree was seated next to her colouring in a picture of her own.

Allie marvelled at the change. Her mother almost looked, well, motherly.

Stepping into the room, Allie pressed a kiss to her daughter's head, backing up just in time to avoid being hit in the chin. The drawing child abandoned her task turned with an excited expression on her face. "You're home Mummy!" With flexibility and speed, the six year old scrambled up onto her chair and flung herself forward into her mother's arms. Legs wrapped around Allie's hips, Mia was talking at a mile a minute.

"Guess what?" she said breathlessly. "Nanna"- the name grandmother and granddaughter had decided upon - "is taking me to the movies tonight. Cos you're going to Stella's going away party."

"Oh is she really?" hedged Allie, sparing a glance to her mother to confirm her daughter's story. Her mother must have been expecting her to explode as she looked apprehensive for a second and then nodded her head slightly.

Shuffling to where she'd dumped her bag, Allie felt a little light headed as she reached for her wallet. Balancing Mia on her hip, the sensation faded as she reached pulled free enough money to cover the movie tickets and snacks. Holding it out to her mother, she frowned when the older woman shook her head. "I will be paying for tonight's outing."

"Mum," said Allie in a warning tone.

"No," said Desiree emphatically. "It's my treat. Just think of it as a grandmother spoiling her granddaughter." Defeated, Allie withdrew her hand. _She would look the idiot if she pushed it._

Desiree turned to Mia next. "Now let's get a move on Mia as we'll need to get going soon."

Mia wriggled down from her mother's arms and dashed out of the kitchen. Allie was putting the money back in her wallet when the speedy child popped back into the room. "And guess what?" crowed Mia. "Nanna's coming to Little Athletics tomorrow morning."

Allie froze, childhood memories long suppressed now rushing back with a vengeance.

* * *

When Nick rushed through the door two hours later, he spared the barest of glances toward his stony wife as he began to tug off his shirt. "I know I'm late," he called as he headed for the bedroom. "Gimme a moment to have a shower and then we'll get going."

He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist to find his wife glaring at him. "My mother is going to ruin Mia's life, just like she did to mine," said Allie in a biting tone. "She is the mother from hell."

"She doesn't seem that bad," replied Nick mildly as he headed for the chest of drawers and pulled free clothing.

"She's taking her to the movies tonight," said Allie.

"So?" shrugged Nick, a little confused. "We get a free babysitter."

"She said she wanted to watch Mia do Little Athletics."

Fed up and not understanding Allie's comments, he zipped up his jeans and turned to face his wife. "So?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"So?" exploded Allie. "So? My mother's pushing me into Little Athletics is the whole reason I ran away and joined the police force. Her hothousing is the reason I hadn't spoken to her in seven years."

Allie began pacing as she ranted. "Mum was determined to have an Olympic champion in the family and guess what?" She gestured to herself as she laughed bitterly. "Only kid, so that fell on me. Oh the disappointment when I stopped running."

Allie stopped and her blazing eyes burning into Nick's. "This is not going to happen to Mia. My mother is not going to make her hate me." She nodded her head fiercely. "Mia is going to hate Mum going."

"How do we know that?" offered Nick with a small laugh. "She just wants to spend time with her granddaughter, Al."

"You're never home, so what would you know?" shouted Allie.

"We're not going there," gritted Nick, his face tightening. "You of all people know about cop hours." Nick moved away and Allie threw up her hands. "That's right," she said exasperatedly. "Just walk away."

"What do you want me to say?" an exasperated Nick asked of Allie as he turned back to her. "Tell her she can't see her grandchild?"

Allie refused to respond, her face angry still. "Look Allie," suggested Nick as he reached for a shirt. "Just talk to her about it."

"Easy for you to say," retorted Allie. "You don't have to do it."

Nick stepped forward and prepared to respond but Allie turned away from him and stormed from the room. "Let's just go to the party."

* * *

It was awkward as they walked in the door. Both greeted Stella and Phil stiffly before heading off in different directions, Allie still simmering and Nick snagging a beer.

An hour and a half later – having avoided each other for the majority of it – Nick listened with half an ear to the conversation between Phil and his mate. Raising his drink to his lips, he scanned the crowd. He knew exactly where she was standing and his eyes found her form instantly. Her not so tense-and-ready-explode-any-minute-now form it must be said.

His gaze was trained on her for a full two seconds before she turned her head and their gazes locked. He raised an eyebrow and she offered a tiny rueful smile. He pointed his beer in her direction and she nodded her head. She nudged her head to the side, pointing in a direction toward the side of the house. Nick excused himself, sculled the little left in his bottle, binned it and made his move.

Allie was already there and he pulled her form toward him without warning, his arm around her neck. "Come here silly."

"Don't call me silly," protested Allie half-heartedly against his lips.

Nick quashed any further complaints when he covered her lips with his and kissed her thoroughly.

* * *

Departing less than half an hour later, Nick had his arm wrapped firmly around Allie's shoulders, her hand sliding comfortably into his back pocket as they faced the friends that were about to set off on a six month holiday overseas.

Allie wished Stella and Phil good luck before she turned to Georgie who would stay at home to look after the place and study at TAFE. "And if you need anything," she added, "call Nick." She emphasised her statement by patting her husband's chest.

"Ha ha," said Nick drolly, kissing Allie briefly on the lips before turning to their neighbours. "Seriously though, give a shout if you need anything."

"Thanks Nick, Allie," said Stella warmly.

"Walk home safe," said Phil as he shook hands with them both.

Unable to keep their hands off each other, Nick and Allie left the house and made their way down the path, laughing uproariously when they stumbled over a branch, clasping at each other. They both attempt to silence the other with kisses and soft words as they reach their door.

Getting the key into the door took a lot longer than it should have. Feeling like teenagers breaking curfew sneaking in, Allie slipped off her heels and tugged at Nick's shirt collar as she pulled him in for a kiss. Her man didn't resist, pressing her up against a wall as he continued to kiss her. Shirts were rapidly unbuttoned and Allie's leg wrapped around Nick's as she reached for the zipper of his jeans.

Hearing movement at the back of the house, both froze. Allie stifled giggles in her husband's chest as they waited, his lips on her neck. "Oh God," gasped Allie. "Imagine if my mother walked in on us now."

Nick shuddered as he lifted his head. "I'd really rather not." With this declaration, he tugged her toward their bedroom. "Let's get back to business."

"Bossy aren't we?" said Allie coyly, walking her fingers up his chest.

Nick captured the digits and pressed them to his lips, his eyes intense as he looked into hers. "And don't you love it."

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

The next day: more revelations.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Nick had received a call out at 3am because a copycat killer had begun killing as homage to the man Homicide had arrested the day before, and so Allie was alone in the bed when Mia bounded into the room just before 7 and she startled awake.

This time early by their standards – especially on a Saturday – Allie brushed her hair back from her face as she watched her daughter jumping up and down on their bed. Her mind was elsewhere as she sighed inwardly. She needed to talk to her mother today about Mia and Little Athletics.

The rollercoaster she'd been riding the past fortnight didn't seem to be slowing down any time soon.

Throwing back the sheets, deliberately flinging them over the energetic child, she sat upright. Standing up, she swayed and sat down instantly. The blasted light-headedness was back. Mia, now free of the sheets, hugged Allie from behind, pushing her body forward slightly. As she leaned into her, Allie's stomach revolted. Gripping her daughter's clasped hands, she stood up gingerly, Mia taking a piggy back pose, and released a sigh of relief.

Everything was okay now.

* * *

There was no time that morning to talk with her mother and so it wasn't until Mia stood in a gaggle of kids getting ready to run at Little Athletics that Desiree and Allie had a chance to talk. Standing side by side, there was a visible gap between them as Allie folded her arms over her chest and spoke. "Mother, a word?" she asked, her eyes remaining on the field and numerous children before them.

Desiree too didn't look at her daughter, her eyes on where her granddaughter now ran down the field, easily beating the other four children running with her. "She's good."

Allie's reaction was instantaneous and she exploded. "No."

"I'm sorry what?" asked Desiree in a low tone, sparing a glance to see if people were watching them.

"I refuse to let you," replied Allie, lowering her voice. "I want her to enjoy sports, not be forced to grow up and hate it. Like I did. It will be her decision."

"Pfft," scoffed Desiree. "What do children know? Parents need to make that little push. Excellence isn't something that just falls into your lap, you know?"

"Oh yeah," said Allie bitterly. "Trust me, I know."

"Allegra..." replied Desiree in a warning tone.

"Mia is not going into a program for gifted athletes," said Allie in a hard tone, a tone of finality. "It is not going to happen."

The conversation stopped there and an awkward silence fell between them both. When Mia came over after her session was complete, both adults lavished their attention on her. Perhaps spotting the tension, Mia acted even more upbeat and kept the conversation going.

It wasn't until Mia sat down later that afternoon to watch a movie that the argument came to a head once again.

Allie was in the small laundry, sorting through the clothes with a vengeance. Washing machine full, she reached for the washing liquid, swirled it around, shut the lid and pressed the buttons on the display. Reaching down to pick up the wet clothes already in a basket, she swallowed convulsively when the light-headedness returned. Pushing it brutally to the side, she stood up, propped the basket on her hip and saw her mother standing in the doorway.

"You're making a mistake," said Desiree bluntly.

"Oh, it's just another mistake in my big, long list of them isn't it," snapped Allie. "So sorry to be such a disappointment."

"Well," said Desiree, stretching out the word. "Perhaps if you hadn't been so fast and loose and so determined to join the police force, then that awful incident with Mr He Whom Shall Not Be Named may never have happened."

"Are you calling my daughter – your granddaughter – a mistake?" asked Allie, eyes narrowing.

"Of course not," scoffed Desiree. "A child is only a reflection of their parentage." Allie rolled her eyes and snorted, throwing her free hand up into the air. "And so that is what I'm trying to tell you: don't make this mistake. She has talent."

Allie raised a finger, a warning of "don't you dare" right on her lips but suddenly the world didn't seem so flat anymore. Bewildered, she spoke shakily. "I don't feel well."

"Oh, enough with the excuses," said Desiree exasperatedly.

"No, seriously." Dropping the basket, not caring when it tilted and clothes fell to the floor, Allie took the three steps to the laundry sink and was promptly sick.

After vomiting three times more, Allie groaned. Surely her stomach was empty by now. Wondering what it was that she had eaten to induce such a reaction, she realised that someone was keeping her hair back. She had a sudden flashback to a time when she hadn't hated her mother: she felt like a sick kid again.

Turning on the tap, she scooped some water into her mouth and struggled to pay attention as she realised her mother was speaking. "It's okay sweetie," soothed Desiree. "It's to be expected when you're pregnant."

Allie's head flew up from the sink and her eyes almost popped out of her head. "I'm sorry, what?"

Desiree looked honestly confused. "I thought you knew and were just hiding it from me."

"I'm not pregnant," swore Allie as she scrambled backward, her back at the glass sliding door that led outside. Looking at her mother's all-knowing look, her stomach threatened to revolt again.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Confirmation and another revelation. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

_

* * *

_

It was not true.

Standing in the express line at the shop with Mia, Allie had eight different pregnancy tests in her basket. Eight might be a bit much, but when each of them came back negative – which they would, she told herself firmly – her mother would know that she was most certainly _not _pregnant.

Shifting forward in the line, her daughter inspected the lollies strategically placed on the shelves near the checkout. When her face turned up to hers hopefully, Allie shook her head slightly. Mia sighed knowingly and then turned her attention to the man lining up behind them. She looked in interest at what he was buying – milk and bread – before she looked past him and saw two more people join their line, a woman and a boy that looked like he was her age.

The line shifted forward again and Mia belatedly realised that when the man almost ran into her. Quickly moving up to her mother's side, the rest of the line shifted up. Noticing that they were now at the front of the line, Mia looked at the two checkouts and wondered which customer would finish first.

Her contemplation was interrupted when the young boy two spots behind them suddenly threw a tantrum. Turning, the six year old saw that the boy held a Mars Bar in his hand and was refusing to let it go. He began screaming when his mother tried to pry it from his fingers. When she did, he threw himself onto the ground and banged his fists against the floor.

Tugging at her mother's leg, her eyes not off the scene before her, she whispered loudly. "What is that boy _doing_?"

Allie looked back in the direction that Mia was pointing and saw the woman flush in embarrassment. She prepared to answer her own child when an impatient voice sounded in front of him. "Hello, next please."

Stepping up to the checkout, Allie placed the basket in the designated spot. Mia stood with her back to the wall next to her mother as she watched curiously as the woman tried to pull the boy up so that they could move forward in the line, only for the kid to then become a deadweight.

Wondering at the behaviour, she turned around and propped her head up on the checkout as each thing was slowly removed from the red basket, scanned several times over until it read and then placed in a plastic bag. Mia wasn't the only one wondering at the slow pace of the worker.

_It is a Sunday for goodness sake_, Allie muttered to herself. _People got paid double to work this shift, so come on girly, double time. _

After what felt like an eternity – but was more likely just two minutes – the total popped up on the screen. "$72.49," said the cashier in a bored tone.

"Mummy, I want to pay," said Mia.

The checkout girl looked at Allie, then Mia and then at the contents of their purchase. The look on her face said everything as Allie ignored her and handed Mia her card to swipe. The six year old reached up high to place it in the machine and then stood back as Allie finished everything off.

As Allie took the bag and receipt and they left the shop, Mia looked up at her mother with a question on her lips. "Why did you buy so many boxes with big tummies on them?"

* * *

Seven positive tests, one negative test, three meetings with the toilet, disbelief warring with inevitability, several knowing looks from her mother, countless reassurances to her husband that she was _not _sick and 27 hours later, Allie stepped off the elevator onto the Homicide floor. She held a file in her hand, a tight smile plastered on her face.

Making her way over to where her old teammates were working at their desks, she responded to their greetings with a swift "hey".

Nick had his back to her, his hands clasped behind his head. Realising they had a visitor, he tilted his neck to the side. "Hey hon."

Allie slapped down the files on Matt's desk – "The files you asked Dom for" – before turning to her husband. "Nick, a word?"

Nick readily rose from his chair and followed his wife into the break room.

"This is all your fault," declared Allie without warning as she turned and braced herself back against a cupboard. "All yours."

"Okay," said Nick slowly. "What is it that I'm supposed to have done?" He refrained from adding _this time. _He didn't think it would help matters much.

"I took eight tests," said Allie, evading the question. "Eight tests Nick and they're all telling me the same thing." She looked at him expectantly.

"Ah, eight tests for what Al?" asked Nick, concern starting to grow. "Give me something more to work with here."

"Eight pregnancy tests," said Allie succinctly. "Well, technically only seven returned a positive, so the eighth one must have been a false negative, but when you consider my mother picked it up, then that probably makes it an even eight and..."

Her voice trailed off.

She hadn't exactly come here with a speech prepared on how she was going to tell Nick that they were going to be parents for a second time, but she had expected that his reaction was generally going to be one of surprise and joy.

It wasn't.

Nick's face was white and he took a step backward. Allie opened her mouth to question him, to ask what was wrong, but he turned from her. In the doorway, his hand gripped the doorframe as he stopped momentarily, his back to hers. Then came the last words she heard from him before he left altogether.

"I can't do this."

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Nick goes missing. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

**Author's Note: **This part is influenced by the episode "In Harm's Way" shown on Wednesday, 25 August where Nick hates the idea of arresting any father-turned-vigilante, distraught at having lost their child. The long look he shared with Jennifer over the roof of the car when he made this declaration made me think that he has history.

* * *

Allie had no idea what was going on.

She had left the break room only to see the lift doors shut, Nick's face turned downward and his whole body tense. Her first thought wasn't to herself or the child growing within her: it was to the man she loved who had just left.

After several calls to his phone rang out, Allie bit her lip and headed to the cluster of desks where there was movement. Matt held a folder in his hand and looked up to the newly arrived Allie with a question. "Where's Nick? We've got a witness in Room 1."

Allie fumbled, swallowing hard as she struggled to answer. "He... he had to go out."

"Oh," said Matt confused.

Jen stood up and reached for her own notebook then. "I'll come with you Matty."

This left Allie with Duncan, the man tapping away into his computer with a focused expression on his face. Twisting her fingers nervously over her phone, Allie felt like a nervous school girl as she looked at the detective.

"Yes Allie?" asked Duncan wryly, his eyes not leaving the screen.

She startled and then stepped forward, taking confidence she didn't feel from the action. "I need to ask a favour."

There must have been something in her tone as Duncan turned instantly, leaning back in his chair and looked up at her. "Name it."

"I need you to trace Nick's phone for me."

* * *

Stepping out of the taxi, she easily spotted their car in the parking lot. Looking at the brick half-wall to the right of the gate, she read the wrought iron sign. "Northcote Cemetery." She'd been surprised when Duncan tracked down the GPS on Nick's phone and it returned this place.

Stepping through the arch, the cemetery was deserted. Tugging her jacket tighter around her body in the brisk wind, she set off, her eyes seeking a lone man standing.

She almost made a mistake, accosting the wrong person, before she found the familiar figure of her husband. Standing still, she looked at him: his body upright, his hands thrust into his pockets, his head looking down at a headstone.

Stepping closer, she silently took a position next to the sombre man and looked down at the grave. The grass was green and the small slab of stone that jutted up at the head read:

_Rafferty Symonds Buchanan_

_11 May 1996 – 26 August 1996_

_Much loved son of Nick and Daisy _

_Taken too early _

In shock, Allie said the first thing that came to mind. "Why didn't you tell me about this," she said softly, turning her face to his.

His gaze never shifted. "It was over ten years ago." Nick paused and she could see him thinking. "Fourteen years ago," he clarified slowly, as if it had just hit him how fast time had flown. Just how long ago it actually was.

Allie resisted the urge to reach out and touch him. "Your family never said," she ventured next.

"I asked no one to talk about it," replied Nick harshly. "What's done is done. We can't change the anything, so why live in the past."

They were silent a moment before Allie asked the burning question. "What happened?"

Nick didn't answer for a long time. But when he did, he turned her face to hers and she felt the tug in her heart at the pain in his features. "He was killed when a man ran a red light. He was going too fast and he ploughed right into the pram." Nick's jaw tightened. "Rafe didn't stand a chance."

"Oh Nick," replied Allie, feeling his hurt. She couldn't stop her actions as she reached her hand out to his. He didn't acknowledge it, but he didn't move away either. "What about his mother?" asked Allie gently.

Nick jerked his head to the grave and headstone directly right of his deceased son's. Allie turned her head to look in the direction and saw the words "Dana "Daisy" Symonds" etched into the stone.

"She just lost her will to live," explained Nick helplessly. "There was nothing I could do to help her."

Allie didn't want to ask. "You mean she...?"

Nick was silent for a moment before he understood what she couldn't say. "No, she didn't kill herself." He shrugged his shoulders. "She just went to bed and didn't wake up one morning." He turned back to his son's headstone. "And me? I joined the police force and just kept on going."

When Allie stepped in closer and wrapped her hands around his arm, he turned ironic, trying to hide the long-hidden pain. "Guess we both ran away to the force. Therapy, you called it."

She saw straight through his attempt at light-heartedness. "I get it. You're scared."

"Perhaps I am," he agreed with a sigh. "I'm not sure I could handle losing another child."

"What about Mia?" asked Allie. "She's not going anywhere."

"I love Mia," said Nick hesitantly, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "But it's not the same. She's not... she's not mine."

Allie saw red and anger coursed through her veins. Hurt at how Nick had dismissed his adopted daughter, she took a step back. "Well, I'll just leave it to you then, shall I?"

Hearing no response, she turned on her heel and left.

She got ten paces before she stopped. The emotional maelstrom within her raged and she felt exhausted. Sighing, she turned her head back. Nick still hadn't moved, a stoic figure with his back to her.

Turning around, she went back. "I just don't get why you didn't tell me," she said exasperatedly, two steps away.

"It wasn't your problem," was Nick's tight response.

"You made it my problem the instant you walked into my life Nick," she yelled. "When you walked into Mia's life. When you walked into our unborn child's life. You..."

He turned to her then and Allie's heart broke when she saw the man that she loved – the man who had been there for her through thick and thin – with tears running down his cheeks. Dismissing words, she took the steps forward to cover the distance between them and pulled him in firmly for a hug.

He gripped her tightly.

They stood there for an eternity, a man drawing comfort from a woman. For the first time in fourteen years, more than a decade of repressed emotion, Nick faced the life he had left as a teenager and let it out. And for the first time, Allie was able to be to him, what he had always been for her.

When they parted, Allie looked up into the face of the man who had been holding on to so much for so long. "Don't shut me out," she begged, raising her hand to clasp his damp cheek.

"I was only seventeen," said Nick, his eyes off into the distance. "But I loved that baby." His face turned to hers. "I didn't have him long enough. Fifteen weeks, two days and three hours I was a father. And then nothing." He laughed humourlessly. "Gone."

He swallowed and she felt the movement of muscles under her palm. "Being with you and Mia was like my second chance I guess. Never expected to get it."

His eyes met hers for the first time that afternoon. "But honey, having another kid of my own scares me." Gripping her shoulders, he continued. "I just need time to adjust Al," he said in a strained voice. A tentative hand reached out to rest where their unborn child resided.

"But I'll get there."

_

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_

Next chapter:

Pain.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

It had been six weeks since they were at the cemetery. Five weeks since the doctor had confirmed the pregnancy. Four weeks since Mia had found out that she could expect the long awaited sibling in six months. Three and a half weeks since Christmas. Three weeks since Nick had pulled Allie close to him in bed and covered her softly swelling belly. Two and a half weeks since Desiree Kingston had returned to Sydney. One and a half weeks since Desiree had returned to Melbourne and bought a house nearby. And one week since Allie had woken up everything morning with a dash to the bathroom to be sick.

It was just after 7am this morning when Allie stumbled into the kitchen with a scowl, bone tired. She was _not _a morning person, but with morning sickness her new alarm clock, she'd found herself getting up earlier and earlier.

Nick was usually the only person awake at this hour – and indeed, there he sat at the kitchen table now, a coffee in one hand, the newspaper spread out on the table before him – as he waited for the ladies of the house to arise. But for the past week, she had joined him, seeing as after upending her stomach, she refused to go back to bed only to fall asleep and then have her blasted alarm clock blaring in her ear for real.

Feeling out of sorts, the beginning of a headache building, she slipped into her husband's lap. Well used to it by now, Nick's eyes never left the paper as he slipped one hand around her form, pressed a kiss to her cheek and slipping his hand around to rest on her abdomen, a natural action now. Even at four months pregnant, there was a noticeable bump forming.

Propping her head up on her hand propped up on Nick's shoulder, she sighed. "I'm fed up with being sick."

"Mm-hmm," confirmed Nick vaguely.

Allie yawned. "And I'm just so blasted tired." Running her fingers through Nick's hair, she yawned again as she rested her head on the broad shoulder of her husband. She'd gotten in late last night, checked Mia was asleep and then hit the sack, taking a precious moment to wrap herself around the warm body of her man before her head hit the pillow. She'd closed her eyes, and then after what felt like less than a minute, opened them and ran to the bathroom to be sick.

Their quiet morning of solitude was interrupted when a mobile phone rang. Allie didn't move from her position as Nick reached out and picked up his mobile phone, raising it to his ear, answering with a curt "Buchanan".

All Allie heard was "Mm-hmm", "Where?" and "I'll meet you there". When the call ended, she pressed her lips to Nick's as she slid from his lap. As he buttoned up his shirt and left the room for his shoes, Allie noticed the time with a sigh. Time to get Mia up, ready and then head into work herself.

Rubbing at her forehead, pain back with a vengeance, she left the kitchen, mouth puckered in distaste as she visualised the large stack of paperwork with her name on it at work, courtesy of the numerous interviews she'd undertaken for the past three days as their team chased down a high-profile businessman ripping off unsuspecting customers, struggling to connect a trail of bodies and money.

Sitting on the edge of Mia's bed, she recalled that she also had a meeting with her mother in her lunch break today to show her the ultrasound photos from their appointment two days ago. Shaking her daughter's shoulder, Mia decidedly stubborn this morning, she felt her muscles tense at the prospect of seeing her mother. Whilst they had made some little progress, their relationship was still strained.

"C'mon baby," muttered Allie as she coaxed her daughter into wakefulness. The room was suddenly flooded with sunlight as the curtains were thrown open.

"Up and at 'em squirt," ordered Nick, tapping Mia on her bottom. When the six year old rolled onto her back and bunched her eyes together in an attempt to look like she was still sleeping, both parents exchanged a look. They knew she was awake.

When Nick threatened to become a tickle monster, Mia flew out of the bed instantly, attacking her father. Nick easily picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. After a few minutes of fun, he kissed Mia goodbye, dropped her to the floor – whereby the now fully awake girl dashed for the toilet – and leaned down to kiss Allie goodbye.

As he left, and she heard the front door open and close, Allie still remained sitting. For the life of her, she couldn't find the energy to move. After several orders to herself to stand up, she finally braced her arms on the bed and rose gingerly. The anticipated light-headedness faded after a second and she made for the kitchen.

A headache now fully formed and pounding mercilessly, Allie was not in the mood for the energetic child that faced her this morning. Every spoonful of cereal that Mia took was followed by a question. "Do you reckon I'm getting a brother?" Gulp. "Or maybe it's a sister?" Slurp. "Can we find out?" Spill. "The baby's coming on the 13th of June right?" Double gulp. "Maybe we could call the baby Lacey, cos that's what the baby in the book at school is called." Sip. "Or what about..."

"Mia!" snapped Allied, feeling as if she had reached the end of her tether. "Just eat."

Mia pouted, pushed her bowl away and stood up. "I'm not hungry anymore." As her daughter left the room still in her pyjamas, Allie pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. "No TV in the morning Mia," she called. "Go and get ready for school."

"Mum..." came the whine.

"I mean it," she shouted, her voice louder than expected. Noting the time herself, she swore under her breath.

Somehow, both mother and daughter were almost ready when a knock sounded on the door. Following her daughter down the hallway as she tied the last hair tie at the end of a plait, Allie then snagged the lunchbox, thankful, not for the first time, that her husband was so organised. Mia opened the door to expose Aleisha Cummings, the mother of Mia's classmate Beau, as Allie zipped up the school bag.

As Mia slipped her arms into the shoulder straps and prepared to go out the door, Allie knelt down and tugged her bag backward. "Sorry for shouting baby," said Allie, her face at the schoolgirl's level. "Mummy's in a funny mood this morning."

"It's okay," said Mia magnamously, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck. "I still love you."

"Love you too squirt," replied Allie with a firm hug of her own, her headache not pounding so much now.

Watching Mia skip down the path to the car, she pressed her hands to her knees and pushed herself upright, thanking Aleisha. Shutting the front door, she turned in the hall. Cursing her speed at doing so when her vision blurred, she had other things to worry about when a sudden pain ripped across her abdomen.

Reacting instinctively, she bent over and wrapped her arms around her waist. Holding her breath in the next few seconds, she began to hope when the pain faded. Straightening herself gingerly, she reached out for the table in the hall. Firmly gripping the bevelled edge, drawing strength from its sturdiness, she took deep breaths in and out.

She ventured an uneasy step forward. Then another. And then another. Standing in the doorframe to her bedroom, she placed a hand on her swollen abdomen and, defying her atheism, sent up a prayer to whichever God was on duty that everything was okay.

It wasn't.

And this wasn't any old pain that returned. It was cramps. Spotting her phone on her bedside table, she stumbled toward it, her body bent over as the pain didn't let up. Snatching up the mobile, looking blearily at the screen, her thumb automatically pressed speed dial number 1. Breathing heavily, and in a sudden moment of clarity, she stopped herself.

She couldn't call Nick. She couldn't do that to him yet. Not until she knew whatever there was to know.

Gasping out loud when another pain flared and her stomach cramped, Allie struggled to search her list of contacts in her mobile, cursing her own stubbornness to not add this number to speed dial. Doubled over, fear coursing through her veins, she pressed the call button at last. The line rang. Tears were running down her face when the person answered.

"Mummy..."

_

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_

Next chapter:

Fear. 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Nick rushed down the hospital hall.

He thought that he had reconciled himself to the fact that he was having a child in five months, but when the phone call had come from Desiree that Allie was in hospital, he'd thoroughly shit himself. It was in the prospect of losing his unborn child that he realised now how much he truly wanted it.

Looking around frantically at the numbers on doors, he finally found the one he was seeking. His heart pounded as he screeched to a stop. Stepping forward to the open door, he struggled to collect his breath.

Standing in the doorway, he took in the sight before him: his mother-in-law was seated on a chair beside a bed upon which his wife lay. He only had eyes for her. Her top was up and her swelling belly was on display. Across her abdoman was a strap, and following the attached wire and cords, he saw a screen drawing regular waves, a regular beep with each rise.

Unfrozen, he stepped into the room. Taking the hand that Allie reached out to him, he leaned down and covered her lips with his. "Everything okay?" he whispered when they parted, his free hand bracketing her cheek.

Allie struggled to find the words and the best she could do was a nod of her head as a woman in a lab coat stepped into the room. Still firmly gripping his wife's hand, Nick turned when the doctor addressed him. "You the husband?"

"That's me Doc," confirmed Nick, swallowing hard as he unconsciously squeezed Allie's hand. "What can you tell us?"

"Mr and Mrs Buchanan," she began, "we've managed to stop the cramping and halt the early labour. Your baby is fine." There was a collective sigh of relief around the room. "However," the woman continued sternly, "that is not to say that you are out of the woods. There is still a chance of miscarriage."

Nick felt Allie stiffen next to him and moved in closer, his other hand clasping her shoulder. Both were struggling to process this and it was Desiree Kingston who spoke next. "What can we do?" she demanded to know, her gaze piercing.

"Well," replied the doctor, not fazed by the look, "this case was most likely brought on by stress, so..." She turned to the parents. "Have you had much stress in your life recently?"

* * *

Nick lay in front of the television.

The volume was on mute and the images flickering across the screen meant nothing to him. Flat on his back, one hand was on his forehead – his mind rather full, and his body exhausted – whilst Mia lay on his chest.

Allie had sent him home from the hospital to pick up Mia from after school care. He'd protested, wanting to stay with her overnight, but she'd been firm. "Mum is here, and I need _you_ to tell Mia."

He'd been ready to argue, but taking in her weary form and her exhausted features, had barely restrained his tongue. "You call me if you need anything," he made her promise one last time as he clasped her neck.

"I will."

When he'd told Mia that her mother was in hospital, their usually rambunctious child had suddenly turned solemn. He'd quickly added that the baby was okay, and that they were staying in the hospital overnight so the doctors could look after them.

His reassurance hadn't reassured her. "This is my fault. I was being naughty this morning and so that's why she and the baby are in the hospital."

"No sweetheart," he quickly said, gathering her up into his arms. "It's not your fault. It's just... It's not your fault." He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "Mia, it's not your fault. At all. It just happened, and the doctors made her better."

She remained a clingy child for the rest of the evening and refused to leave his side, even when it came to bed time. Not willing to face the bed he shared with Allie just yet, he'd ended up on the lounge with Mia snuggled into him like old times. He'd been happy to indulge her need for closeness, still thoroughly rattled himself.

Mia was finally sleeping when the phone rang.

He used one hand to hold her in place as he swiftly reached for the mobile on the small table nearby. Noting caller id, he raised it to his ear. "Is everything okay?" He would have sat up, but the weight of the six year old kept him down.

His heart was pounding at a mile a minute and he was already making plans to dash into the hospital when her reply cut through his rushed thoughts. "I'm fine. I just wanted to call and check that everything is okay. Is Mia okay?"

"She's fine," he promised quickly. "How about you?"

"We're okay."

After a comfortable silence, his muscles starting to relax once again, his head on the couch cushion, Nick asked a question that was on his mind. "Hey Al," he asked softly.

"Mm?" replied Allie.

"Why didn't you call me first?"

He heard her sharp intake of breath. "I didn't want to scare you. If this turned out to be nothing, then you didn't need to know."

"You never planned on telling me?" he asked incredulously, his voice still soft, so as not to wake up Mia.

"I would have," replied Allie. "But only after I knew what was wrong. I wanted to, um, protect you." There was a pause before she added sheepishly. "I got Mum to call you from the hospital. I thought I'd be able to get through it myself."

"We are really going to have to do something about this doggone independence of yours," said Nick with a sigh, a trace of humour lining it.

"Mm," confirmed Allie and he could visualise her smiling. "I'm most likely a lost cause."

* * *

When the call ended shortly after with an "I love you and see you tomorrow", Allie placed the phone on the tall table near her bed. She startled when the mother she thought asleep in the chair spoke.

"Why did you call me first?" asked Desiree. Allie eyed her mother, expecting censure, but instead she found a genuine interest.

"I, um, didn't want to scare Nick until we knew what was wrong," she replied. "Because he..."

Desiree noticed the trailing off, but let it pass. "It's amazing the things we do for love isn't it?" she offered instead. "Your father was much like your man. He never wanted to leave my side." Desiree's face softened at the memory. "But he made sure that you weren't neglected either."

In the movement of shifting her body gingerly to be more comfortable, Allie frowned. "When were you in the hospital?"

The eyes that turned to her were clear. "When I miscarried your brother."

Allie's jaw dropped. "I had a brother?"

"You did," confirmed Desiree. "You would have been two and a half years old when he was born. But he died when I was four months pregnant."

Allie's hand unconsciously covered her stomach where her own child at the four month stage lay. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Desiree waved her hand, as if by doing so she could wave away the past. "There was nothing to be done and nothing to be gained from getting miserable over it. No point hanging onto something you can't change."

"Oh Mum..." admonished Allie, the start of tears in her eyes. She reached out her hand in her attempt at sympathy.

Desiree squeezed it briefly and then sat upright in her chair. "Now you can see why I pushed you to be as good as you could be," the older woman said briskly. "I only had one of you."

It was through the night, bonding over this private, painful memory that would not be spoken of again for a long time, that Allie and her mother finally began to repair their relationship.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

You talking to me? 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

"You ready, Kingston?"

Looking up from her desk, she saw her partner Abe Horton standing there, a file in his hand, an expectant look on his face. "Am I ever," agreed Allie. Swivelling on her chair, she eased herself upright gingerly. Pressing a hand to the small of her back momentarily, she righted her balance and stood before her partner nine months pregnant.

Horton slapped the folder against her shoulder and she snatched it into her grasp easily. "Let's do it."

Entering the interview room, Knox Oakeshott looked up from his seat with a snort of derision. "Shouldn't you be in a kitchen barefoot somewhere?"

"Bite me," retorted Allie. Dropping the file down on the desk between them, she planted her hands on the table and sat in the chair. Horton took up position leaning against the wall.

Opening up the file, she flicked the pages up nonchalantly. "So are you going to tell us what happened?" she asked, looking down at the paper. "Or are we going to spend our afternoon here?" She flipped the file closed and shrugged her shoulders. "Trust me, I've got nothing better to do. Except maybe give birth, but hey I'm sure that's an experience you'd like to share."

Behind the glass in the observation room, Waverley winced. "Crude, but effective," she commented to the head of Priority, noticing the anger that flashed across the face of their prime suspect, the fiancée of the victim, brutally murdered businesswoman Joelene Mundy.

"Get lost," snapped Oakeshott. "I ain't going to tell you anything."

Allie raised her eyebrow. "We shall see about that." She turned to her partner then. "Grab me a tea and a newspaper will you?" she said in a deceptively sweet tone. "This is going to take a while."

As Detective Kingston slowly propped her legs up on the other chair in the room and a uniform brought in the requested beverage and reading material, Detective Abercrombie Horton slipped into the observation room, a satisfied look on his face. "And now we wait."

"Let us hope that she knows what she is doing," said Waverley pointedly.

Sergeant Dominic Fitzgibbons nodded toward the screen. "I'll place my bets that he breaks first."

The commander didn't look convinced as her phone rang. "I will be down there in a moment Detective Levitt." Hanging up the call, she turned to Horton and FitzGibbons. "I'll be in Homicide. Call me if anything changes."

"Ma'am," agreed FitzGibbons.

Meanwhile in the interview room, Allie had started a running commentary on baby's names. The newspaper open on the birth, death and notices page, she shook her head. "Look at the names these days," she tut-tutted. "Cooper, Ella, Isabella, another Cooper, Jack, Sophie, Jack, Jack, Emily. Ah..."

Folding the newspaper along the crease, she crossed her arms, resting them on her swollen abdomen as she turned her head to Oakeshott. "My sister-in-law's a teacher, and just the other day I was talking with her. Did you know that in her class, she has an Aiden spelt as Eaydan, a Kayden with a K and a Caden with a C, three Lily's, two Cooper's, two Madison's – one spelt as Madysyn? And then there's even more wierd spellings. I mean come on. Who spells Leah as Leighyah?" She laughed to herself. "Seriously? And let's not even get into the business of all those other kids with those invented names. And Apple? Why would you saddle a poor kid with the name of a fruit?"

Allie could sense Oakeshott growing increasingly frustrated with her, though he tried his best to cover it, his jaw clenching. She carried on. "Well this baby," – she highlighted just which baby it was by bracketing her considerable belly – "is going to have to be named at some point isn't it? Hmm. I reckon if I avoid the top ten list for the last ten years, I'll do okay."

Resting her elbow on the table, she propped up her chin. "Guess I should hurry up and make a decision shouldn't I?" She didn't expect an answer from the tense man opposite her. "I mean, poof, this baby's out in a week or two. Then a week or two after that, I'll be back into shape and then I'll be right back into the workforce. The boss is a bitch, but hey at least I'll be out there catching the scum that litters our streets."

She knew he read between the lines. _Scum like you_.

"I'm lucky my man is such a good househusband. He does a fabulous job of raising the kids." Allie spared a glance to the clock and made a big deal of noting the later hour. "My, look at the time. I must get someone to ring my husband. I'm not going to make it home for dinner. Wouldn't want his meal to go to waste."

It is now that Oakeshott, his hands firmly fisted, reacts for the first time. "You should be," he snarled, banging his hands on the table.

Allie played as if his actions had no effect on her. "I'm sorry," said the detective deceptively sweetly. "Did you say something?"

"It's your job to be at home caring for the kids and the house," he roared. "If she'd agreed to that, then none of this would have happened."

Allie removed her legs from the chair and turned to face the angry man full on. "What happened, Mr Oakeshott?" she asked calmly.

He was shaking his head, looking down at his clenched fists. "I killed her. I killed the mother of my children."

Allie edged back slightly. "If you'll excuse me just a moment and hold that thought, I think my partner will also be interested in hearing this."

After plying a confession from the semi-remorseful man, who now seemed to have slid into a state of shock, Allie rose from her chair and headed for the door. She slipped from the interview room with the appearance of control, but the instant the door shut behind her, she was a woman on a mission.

"Out of my way," she ordered as she headed for the toilets, one hand on her swollen abdomen, the other making shifting gestures to the people heading her way. She spotted someone waiting in line, but the instant the door opened, she pushed right on by. "Sorry lady, but I've been waiting longer."

Blessedly relieved – and certain that her bladder would not have been able to cope much longer and so thankful that Knox Oakeshott had cracked when he did – she sought out her partner and boss. "Well done," said FitzGibbons briefly. "Another one for the books. I want that report on my desk before you leave."

With a mutual chorus of "Yes Sir", Horton and Allie returned to their desk. "Are you really going to come back to work two weeks after you have your baby?" asked Horton curiously as Allie brought up the report template, already tapping in details, intent on getting this done as soon as possible.

Allie looked at him blankly for a moment then recalled her previous comment. "Gods no," she dismissed. "I'm taking at least six months off. You won't see me back here before the new year."

* * *

Arriving home, Allie stepped through the front door to find Nick already on the couch with a beer in hand and Mia bouncing on the bean bag. "Hey gorgeous," she said as her daughter lunged toward her.

"Hey hon," said Nick, turning his face.

"Hello to you too," grinned Allie. Nick laughed wryly, tilting his face up to take her kiss over the back of the couch.

Mia had by this time reached her mother and was patting her belly with great enthusiasm. "Gently does it squirt," Allie chastised as she grabbed her daughter's hand. With one last – much gentler – pat to greet her unborn sibling (the sibling who, in Mia's eyes, needed to arrive much sooner rather than later) the six and a half year old inched back, took a running sprint and then vaulted over the back of the couch, narrowly missing hitting her father. Landing on the bean bag, she gestured for Allie to hurry up and sit down. "You got home in time for the start."

Allie happily dumped her things on the floor before she rounded the couch. Easing down into the cushions, she moaned softly as her muscles relaxed as she rested in that exact spot where the couch arm met the couch back. Her pathetic attempt at lifting her legs were greatly assisted when Nick reached down and lifteds them up onto his lap for her. Her boots off, she rested her head against her propped up arm as the list of players rolled onto the screen. Her swollen ankles being rubbed by her attentive husband, Allie watched the Australian cricket team run out onto the ground to field first in the special Twenty20 match.

Mia was beside herself with each whack of a 4, slam of a 6, thunk of wicket bails flying and the whoosh of a flying catch. She took each event in the fast paced game as a momentous occasion and would jump up and flop down onto her bean bag.

There was also her attempt at a running commentary, frequently interspersed by corrections by Nick.

Bob – as they'd taken to calling the coming baby – didn't share her sister's love of the game, and instead assaulted their mother's internal organs every time the cricket wasn't on. Allie had vaguely noticed the regularity of kicks, but when the time came for the teams to switch on the field, she noticed that Baby of Buchanan was actually kicking on cue the instant the cricket went off the screen and the ads began.

She shared an amused look with Nick when she told him, their moment of mutual understanding spoilt when she yawned. The tiredness didn't abate. When the last ball of the game was smashed for an unlikely six and the All Stars won, Nick patted Allie's upper thigh as Mia shouted out loud. With no response, both Buchanans turned and discovered that Allie was sound asleep.

It really was such a common occurrence these days.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Waiting. 


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Detective Matt Ryan crossed the bullpen with a yawn. With baby Molly Anne teething, there really wasn't much sleep to be had. He reckoned he and Emma had gotten maybe three hours of sleep between them last night. Max.

He poorly disguised another yawn by raising his notebook to his face. Dropping the paper, he saw his colleague looking at him with an amused expression on his face. "Late night?" asked Nick with a grin from his desk.

The sandy-haired detective's eyes narrowed. "Just you wait."

Nick leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "That's all we seem to be doing," he agreed amiably. "Waiting."

"Wasn't Allie due yesterday?" said Rhys looking up from the file in his hand.

"Two days ago actually," said Nick, turning to him. "She's on maternity leave though." _Thank God_, he muttered under his breath. When the baby hadn't arrived by its 13 June due date, Allie had been all for going to work until the baby decided to arrive.

He'd, of course, been against it, and it was only when she tried to put on her shoes, and was unable to, that she'd reluctantly agreed to stay home and wait. And wait. She'd looked rather petulant when he left her this morning, the pout on her face really not becoming her. He smirked at the memory.

"You're looking very relaxed for a man whose wife could go into labour at any point," said Duncan nonchalantly, holding a pen between his fingers.

Nick moved forward in his chair once again, patting his shirt pocket as he did so. The solid _thunk_ of the plastic of his mobile could be heard. "The instant this phone rings, I'm outta here to do the hospital run. Nothing to worry about. "

Sergeant Wolfe stepped into the bullpen then and addressed them all. "Briefing in five minutes."

The team gathered up their various notes and files. Moving toward the meeting room, a phone rang. They all laughed when their usually calm workmate suddenly dashed back to his desk and snatched up the handset.

From his reaction, it wasn't the need for a hospital run as Nick spoke with the Coroner. "Not worried, my ass," scoffed Duncan with a grin.

* * *

Meanwhile, a disgruntled and exhausted Allie sat on the couch feeling like a beached whale. She was more than ready for this baby to be born. She was at the point where accomplishing even the very smallest of tasks was becoming near on impossible. It took her two minutes just to get to the toilet!

When Mia's school had called this morning with the news that all children were to stay home because of an accident last night that had knocked down several walls, she'd been faced with a little girl in her school uniform, ready and raring to go, most disappointed that she was going to be stuck at home.

After the fiftieth time Mia sang loudly that she was 'bored, bored, oh so bored', Allie had been ready to scream. Desperate times call for desperate measures and she rang her mother. When Desiree Kingston arrived at their door and saw Mia's rather boisterous behaviour, she grinned wryly. "You were just as bad yourself. I always contented myself in the knowledge that one day you'd have a daughter of your own to deal with."

Where before this comment would have set her off, in her 'advanced' age, the safety of their fledging relationship and no doubt in the ultimate tiredness and discomfort she was feeling, all Allie's response was a rare smile with her mother. "Thanks."

Hearing a knock on the door, Allie cursed inwardly. Of course, the instant she sat down, she'd have to get up.

Pushing off the couch, and finally upright, she waddled down the short hall. Opening the door, she found her friend standing there, Emma's hair wet. The six months old – teething – Molly was in her arms as the blonde haired woman stepped into the house. Removing her jacket, she looked at Allie's outfit – or the lack thereof – incredulously. "Aren't you cold?"

Allie snorted as she looked down at her very pregnant form. "It's like carrying your own pot boiler," she said with a point. It may have been raining and 9 degrees outside, but she was more than warm enough in a pair of tracky paints and a three quarter sleeve shirt.

Emma set Molly down on the carpet with a gumming toy, and then when the baby thankfully didn't cry, she ushered Allie toward a seat and headed into the kitchen herself to make the drinks. "You need to rest."

Allie stood behind a chair. "I've quite frankly had enough of resting," she said irritably, patting her swollen abdomen. "I'm more than happy for this baby to arrive."

Emma nodded her head, but wisely declined from responding as Allie eased into a dining table chair. The instant she sat, there was another knock on the door. Groaning, she took a deep breath and gripped the table before her, preparing to rise. "I'll get it," admonished Emma, abandoning the mugs for now.

And of course the moment her mother left the room, Molly began to cry. "Oh shush," said Allie softly. "She'll be back in a minute."

Molly's cries doubled when Emma stepped back into the room, followed by Stella.

"Hey, you're back," said Allie to her neighbour as Emma scooped up her daughter and jostled her in her arms. "How was your trip?"

"It was good. Really good," smiled Stella from the doorway. "I see you've got company, so I won't keep you. I just wanted to come over and apologise for the hole that Baggy dug under the fence." She stepped into the room. "Thank Nick for fixing it for me, will you?"

Allie shook her head. "Georgie fixed it. Not Nick."

"Really?" said Stella. She laughed to herself. "Ha. Well, I'll be..." She stopped talking abruptly when she looked at her neighbour properly for the first time. "Are you pregnant?"

Allie had to laugh out loud. "What gave it away?" she said with a grin, rubbing the side of her distended belly as baby kicked up a storm.

"Nick and Mia happy?" asked Stella warmly as Molly's cries became whimpers.

Allie paused just a second. "Over the moon."

* * *

The distraction that Emma, Molly and Stella had provided her with had been welcome. But after they left, and with Mia still out with her grandmother, Allie now felt restless. She wanted to do something, but didn't know what. Her feet hurt, but she didn't want to sit. She thought she should probably eat, but couldn't bear the thought of food.

With her hands braced on her back, back pain flaring up once again, she tried to relieve her discomfort levels as she walked around the house. Stepping into the small room that would be the baby's bedroom, she looked the chest of drawers over aimlessly. Running one hand over the wooden cot rail, she smiled as she looked down at where Mia had insisted on placing her toy giraffe in the corner.

She gripped the rail for a different reason when a flash of pain ripped across her lower abdomen. "Oh, thank god," she muttered to herself when the pain passed. Let labour begin.

She'd been in labour with Mia for 29 hours, and so when this first contraction hit, she wasn't worried one iota. Leaving the bedroom, she headed for the lounge room. After half an hour of intermediate pain, confirming that she was in fact in labour, she reached for her phone and called Nick.

He answered instantly. "Where are you?"

"I'm at home." She could hear him moving about over the phone.

"Why are you still at home?" he asked in disbelief. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"Oh please," scoffed Allie. She stopped talking long enough to suck in a deep breath as she felt another contraction. "I was in labour with Mia for over a day," she continued slightly breathlessly. "Trust me, this is going to be a while."

She knew he'd given up on arguing with her when she heard a car starting and his last words. "I'll be home soon."

Pottering around the house as she waited for her husband to get home, she stopped every so often to grip the nearest surface and breathe through the pain. Moving to her bedroom, she stood in front of her bed, her hospital bag open before her. Looking through its contents, Allie was ill-prepared for when the pain suddenly started to come with alarming regularity. The level of pain fast approaching unbearable, she leaned forward and gripped the bedspread, gasping when she felt a sudden desire to push.

When she heard Nick step in the door and call out her name, the scream that came with the latest contraction drew him to her. Her head was bent, sweat pouring down her face as she rode out a contraction, but she heard his words. "Oh shit, Al."

Her waters broke. He was by her side in an instant, his hand on her back and one brushing her hair back. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"There's no tiiiiime." Her last word was drawn out as she felt yet another contraction, the cramps coming closer together now with barely any time in between. Rocking her body backward and forward, her jaw tightened as she yelled out in pain again. Reaching out and grabbing Nick's hand, Allie turned her tense face to his. "The baby's coming now."

And so it was.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Mia arrives home to a surprise. 


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Mia Kingston Buchanan skipped up the path to the front door of her house, Desiree Kingston following at a more sedate pace. The six year old arrived at the front door and flipped around, waiting for her grandmother to catch up so that she could unlock the door. Mia was surprised when she rested her weight on the door and it swung open behind her.

Shrugging her shoulders, she moved into the house. Somewhere at the back of her mind she belatedly realised that the door should very much be locked. Her mind never got a chance to dwell on that thought though when she heard a cry that sounded very much like a baby.

Her face lit up joyfully, Mia turned to her grandmother. Ignoring the concerned expression she found on the older woman's face, the excited child dashed for her parents' room, daring to believe what that cry might mean.

Mia skidded to a stop in the doorway. She resisted the urge – barely – to whoop when she saw that her mother was sitting up on the bed and holding a baby. "It's here!" she couldn't help exclaiming. To say the words made it more real.

Racing for the bed, she scrambled up herself. The firm hands of Nick pulled her back before she got too close, but that didn't stop her from craning her head for a better view of the baby.

"Hey sweetheart," said Allie softly. "Meet your sister."

"Cor," said Mia looking down at the baby. "She's so red and wrinkly."

They all laughed.

* * *

Tallulah Imogen Kingston Buchanan had arrived into the world in her father's arms.

Nick hadn't even had time to ring for an ambulance. Within six minutes of walking in the door, his wife's waters had broke, he'd removed her pants, helped her up onto the bed, seen the baby crowning and then with four screams and pushes later, their baby arrived.

He hadn't quite known what to do when the little body had slipped into his hands. He'd found himself drawn to the red face, and didn't realise he was holding his breath until the baby opened her mouth and screamed indignantly.

He'd heard the accompanying relieved gasp of breath as Allie sobbed. The umbilical cord was cut and he reached for the small blanket from his wife's hospital bag behind him. Shifting, he raised his still crying baby – a baby girl some part of his mind told him – up into Allie's waiting arms. He found his vision blurred as he took a seat beside her and looked down.

Whatever feelings and worries he'd been harbouring had been pushed abruptly to the side the instant he'd walked in the door and saw Allie in labour. And even now as he looked at the baby girl crying in the love of his life's arms, he felt like he was on another planet, utterly removed from the situation. Reaching out a finger, he softly ran it down his daughter's damp cheek. The baby's cry became a whimper.

Turning his face up to Allie's, he saw the exhaustion and pain lining her features. Leaning forward, careful not to squish the bundle between them, he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. Drawing back, he found himself at a loss for words. Words failing to come forth when he opened his mouth for the third time, he found himself laughing incredulously.

They were both laughing when the newest Buchanan squirmed and cried loudly, her little mouth seeking to feed.

It was hard to believe that it had happened less than twenty minutes ago. Watching his three girls now, Allie drawing Mia closer to her body as they looked down at baby Tali, the one thing that popped up into Nick's wired brain was that he was seriously outnumbered now. He wondered at the randomness of that thought as his mother-in-law ushered two ambulance officers in.

"Well, I hadn't exactly planned on a home birth," said Allie as she tried to prop herself up better against the clean pillowcase, wincing slightly as she felt the residual pain of birth. "But if everything is okay, then I don't think I'm quite ready to move again just yet."

* * *

Allegra Jayne Kingston Buchanan smiled softly as she ran her fingers through the soft hair of her eldest daughter. Ever since arriving home, Mia had refused to leave the room, enamoured with her baby sister. She'd fallen asleep a few minutes earlier, curled up in a ball on the bedspread, her fingers just a few centimetres short of Tali.

Turning her head to the doorway, Allie saw Nick flip his mobile close and step into the dull lit room. "That's the last of the notifications," he said softly. Dropping the mobile to the bedside table, he took a seat next to his wife.

Looking at where his two kids slept on the other side of her, he smiled gently. Feeling Allie's fingers threading through his hair he turned his face to his wife. Neither spoke any words as he leaned in and pressed his lips briefly to hers.

"I love you," said Nick seriously, his eyes on hers. Allie ran her thumb over his lips. He pressed a kiss into her palm as she replied, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I know." She drew him in for another kiss, pouring in all she felt for him.

They enjoyed a few minutes of quiet before Nick shifted. Gently patting Allie's leg, he rose from the bed. "Back in a moment," he promised softly.

Allie nodded in reply, watching as her husband moved around to the other side of the bed. He gingerly leaned down and eased his arms under Mia's sleeping form. She was mortified to find tears welling up in her eyes once again as she watched Nick carefully manoeuvring her daughter to rest against his shoulder, his arms holding her firmly in place. As he pressed a soothing kiss to Mia's crown when she shifted, and then left the room, Allie knew – and not for the first time – that she had gotten lucky.

Turning her head to the little body wrapped tightly in a blanket on the bedspread beside her, she shook her head wryly. It hadn't quite settled in yet, but she knew from experience the countless feedings and sleepless nights that stretched out before her. _Before them_, she mentally added with a yawn, raising her hand to her mouth belatedly.

Thinking of the visitors they would no doubt have to expect tomorrow, Allie noticed Tali's nose twitch. Mia had been the same, and when this action was followed by her eyes beginning to open blindly and her mouth opened with a loud cry, Allie reached for the top button of her shirt.

_

* * *

_

_Next chapter_: Epilogue.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Fifteen weeks and two days.

That was how old Rafe had been when he died. Fifteen hours and almost two days since Tallulah's birth, Nick lay in bed wide awake. Looking unseeingly into the darkness, he could vaguely make out the shape of Allie next to him, sleeping on her side.

There would be no sleep for him tonight.

* * *

When Tali's early morning cry sounded over the baby alarm, Nick felt Allie shift next to him. The restless man patted his wife's hipbone in reassurance and slipped from the bed himself. Very much awake, and no more refreshed than when he had slipped into bed six hours ago, Nick left the room.

He crossed the hall carefully in the darkness.

Six weeks in their new house and he was still getting used to where everything was. He'd been glad to move though; Allie's place had been far too small for their growing family. Moving time had also come at the perfect time, allowing him to push aside the August anniversary of his son's death, the pain seeming more acute this year, and he knew it was because of Tallulah's birth. (Allie had been uncertain of what to do, and if he'd been his usual self, he would have laughed at her awkward attempts at trying to predict how he was feeling and work around him.)

Standing by the cot, he looked down at where his baby girl was whimpering, aged fifteen weeks, two days today.

Slipping his hands under her small form, he ignored the suspicious smell coming from her nappy. He felt the tightness ease just a little around his heart when she smiled at him, nothing of the whiny and clingy baby from the night before. (Mia's actual birthday had been three days earlier, and the night before they had hosted a small party with their workmates for the newly seven year old.)

Changing Tali's nappy quickly and efficiently, he buttoned up the jumpsuit once again. The last clasp fastened, Nick braced his hands on either side of the wooden rails of the change table, looking down at the baby currently eating her first.

Her eyes were clear and focused on his.

Swallowing a shuddering breath, Nick eased Tali up to rest against his chest. Propping her against his shoulder, the solemn man pressed his nose to her hair, breathed in the unique baby smell and savoured the moment.

Heading for the kitchen, he flicked the kettle to boil. Jostling Tali slightly, he reached into the fridge and brought forth the breast milk that Allie stocked up so that he could do the early morning feedings – and they were early, Tali having taken after her father with her preference to be an early bird rather than the night owl her sister and mother were. Reaching for a jug easily with one hand, he then poured the kettle. Tali's nose twitched and he expected the cry that followed when he submerged the bottle in the hot water. He jostled the small being in his arms as he headed for the lounge room, jug in hand. Taking a seat, he rocked his daughter close as they waited for the milk to warm up.

Today was Mia's seventh birthday party, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Tali go.

* * *

Allie fiercely tugged her hair into a ponytail.

"Mum's going to pick up the cake and meet us there … Do we have the camera? ... And the video camera? ... Mia, are you ready? … Emily can't come anymore – Lindy called to say that she is sick … Drats, we need to get going soon … Where did I put the lolly bags?"

Allie's mouth was running as fast as her brain could think as she ticked off the things she needed to do. Taking a moment to survey all the things piled up at the front door, she took off again.

"We've got my bag, Mia's bag and … yes, we've got the baby bag. Did you put more nappies in there? Yep, you did. Wipes, change of clothes, dummies, toys. We need to get the pram from the garage…"

"Don't bother," interjected Nick abruptly. "I'll take her."

"Okay," was her distracted response. If she hadn't been so worried about the upcoming party at McDonald's, Allie was would have noticed how unusually (more) quiet her husband was. She would have noticed that Nick already had Tali strapped into baby carrier on his chest, and was taking twice as long to pack the car as he was couldn't carry too much.

But she didn't notice, and even when they arrived at Macca's and he chose the more difficult car park right out the front – seeing as there were plenty free on the other side – she had other things on her mind. And when he had Tali in his arms instantly, she remained oblivious to her husband's strangely possessive behaviour, of a single mind as she headed inside the restaurant with the excited Mia holding onto her hand.

She had her first inkling that something was wrong not long after when she noted the time – fifteen minutes before the party was to start – and reached out her arms to Nick. "I'll give her a quick feed now." She was ready to comment on his reluctance to hand over their daughter, but was distracted when her mother arrived with the large number 7 cake.

Tallulah nursed easily and Allie willingly handed off the baby to Nick to burp not long after as she fixed up her shirt, her concern long forgotten, and the first two children arrived for the party.

* * *

Three hours later, Gianne Schaffer – the monstrous older mother that Allie despised (but barely tolerated because Jeremiah was a friend of Mia's) – arrived to pick up her son from the party. With the hated woman suddenly in front of her as she looked up from carefully easing out the lolly bags from a backpack, Allie was stuck. She couldn't exactly call in Nick from the playing area and ask to swap could she?

Plastering on a fake smile on her face, she attempted politeness. "You're a little early."

"Yes, yes," dismissed Jeremiah's mother. "I thought it best in case my Jeremiah wanted to leave early." Allie resisted the urge to crush the lolly bags as Gianne looked around McDonald's, the distaste clear on her face. "How, ah, quaint for you to have such an old-fashioned party in a place like this."

Allie was saved from replying – thankfully, as she wasn't sure what exactly her reply might have been – when the older woman's gaze sharpened and zeroed in on the form of Nick where he stood outside supervising the playground. "My, look at the baby," she exclaimed, though Allie had her suspicions that Gianne wasn't talking about Tali. "How nice it must have a man around this time." She turned her gaze to Allie. "It really is more proper," she said patronisingly.

"Mia," Allie heard Nick say, muffled by the glass between them. "Someone's leaving."

Her jaw hurt from keeping it clenched shut. "We're good," she managed to grit out.

"And so how old is that baby now?" continued Gianne, barely registering Allie's response.

"Fifteen weeks…" trailed off Allie. _And two days, _her mind added.

She froze, her eyes flying to the figure standing on the other side of the glass as she finally realised why Nick had been so odd all day.

Shit, she was a bad wife.

The door between the playground and party room swung open as Desiree Kingston ushered in Jeremiah and her granddaughter. Mia was almost jumping as she approached her mother. Without bothering to ask, she tugged a lolly bag from Allie's grasp and handed it to her friend.

"Thanks for coming, Jerry," piped up the birthday girl.

"Thanks for having me Mia," replied Jeremiah in a practiced tone. A large grin spread across his face as he added a few words of his own. "This party rocked." The once well-dressed boy turned to his mother then. "Mummy! I want a party like this for my birthday."

Allie might have smiled at indignant expression on Schaffer's face – either at her son being called Jerry or the prospect that her son would want such a party, maybe both – but her eyes were still glued on her husband. She saw now the possessive way he held their baby close.

And no wonder.

* * *

It wasn't until later that night that Allie had a chance to speak with Nick. Crossing her arms across her chest, she propped herself against the archway, taking a moment to look at Nick without him noticing her. Tallulah was curled up on her father's chest, his hand resting gently on her back as he looked down intently.

Loving catching these small scenes, Allie nevertheless slipped into the room and eased down onto the couch beside her husband. As Nick was slouched down, Allie was a full head above him when she rested against his side. Reaching out her arm, she gently brushed the very soft – very little – hair that could be found at on Tali's head before pulling her hand back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said softly.

In the end, she was more upset than he was, Nick surprisingly calm as he answered. "As long as I kept Tallulah safe, then that was all that mattered."

Allie was silent a moment, wondering what on earth was appropriate to say. She didn't even realise she was doing it, running her fingers through Nick's hair, the action so second nature to her now after more than a year of marriage, as she continued to think. "You did a pretty good job," she finally ventured.

Nick turned his face to hers for the first time, tilting it to the side as he looked up at her wryly. She smiled ruefully herself as she slid her hand down and cupped her husband's neck. Leaning down, she pressed her lips gently to his. It wasn't a long kiss, and by no means their most passionate one, but for Allie she comforted Nick – and herself – the best way she could.

Her fingers were threading through his hair once again when they drew back, Nick's own fingers copying her actions in her hair with his free hand as they held the gaze of each other, Tali sleeping on between them.

"I love you," Allie said seriously. It was all the more serious and meaningful because it was something that she very rarely said.

"I know."

Meanwhile at the back of the house, a huge grin on her face, Mia slept off the effects of a sugar-induced coma.

_

* * *

_

Finito.

**Author's Note: **And so we have arrived at the end of another story. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, and if the muse should so cooperate, there will be a short sequel to this soon.


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